


before the dawn, let the sun burn out

by Anonymous_Ostrich, MetalBunny



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Pirates, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Ostrich/pseuds/Anonymous_Ostrich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetalBunny/pseuds/MetalBunny
Summary: A collaborative, nonlinear collection of drabbles based on the many role plays between MetalBunny and myself, posted entirely for our own amusement and convenience. Mixture of SFW and NSFW, will add tags as needed.





	1. What's it like, being my boy?

He didn't want to be here.

People rarely wanted to be at functions held by people they barely knew - especially weddings - but Randal _really_ didn't want to be here. He would have turned the invitation down flat if it hadn't been for the inescapable fact that Samuel Perkins was, aside from being tragically human, the son of the CEO of a company that was one of Randal's most frequent and generous clients. Plus, Randal was never one to turn down the opportunity of seeing Hawk in formal wear.

"This _blows_ ," Hawk huffed beside Randal, sipping at a sparkling liquid inside of his champagne glass.

"Say it again, I don't think I caught your displeasure the first twelve times," Randal replied with a sigh. He glanced sidelong at Hawk, perking an eyebrow. "Is that champagne?"

Hawk took another decisive sip, running his tongue over his upper lip. "Soda."

"Soda?" Randal chuckled, curling his fingers over Hawk's shoulder to steer them away from the back wall where people were beginning to congregate, "Where in god's name did you find soda in this lace-ridden, posh nightmare?"

"Don't underestimate my skills," Hawk answered slyly. He cast his blue eyes over the room, his lips forming into a frown. "Why are we here, again?"

"You _know_ why we're here. Extreme duress. Work stuff. Just focus on the free food to come."

Hawk tittered into his champagne glass. "Did you see how bored the bride looked during the ceremony, though?" He took a long swig, nearly finishing off his glass. "Heteros are weird."

"They're humans, too, don't forget," Randal pointed out with a grin. "They don't know any better."

"Master race!" Hawk proclaimed a little more loudly than he needed to.

"You sure that wasn't champagne?" Randal asked with a laugh. "Honestly. Is this what we've been reduced to? Gossiping old married ninnies?"

"Gossiping is fun," Hawk said. "Even _more_ fun when it's with your husband. And for the record, our wedding was _way_ better than this lame-ass Martha Stewart clutsterfuck."

Randal smiled and sought for Hawk's free hand, lacing his fingers between his husband's. He felt Hawk rub against his wedding band and pulled the young man closer to his hip, catching Hawk's lips in a discreet kiss. " _Way_ better. No contest."

Hawk smiled warmly, his eyes soft. "Damn right it was."

Randal loved the way Hawk could say something so flippant in such an openly adoring way. He squeezed Hawk's hand, inclining his head to speak more softly.

"You know, I think you'd look phenomenally more stunning in the bride's dress than she does."

A devious smile tugged at the corner of Hawk's mouth. "There is _no_ doubt about that one." He tilted his head endearingly, edging closer to his husband. "I'll bet I look better _out_ of it, too." There was a challenge on his lips, and an all-too familiar glint in his eye.

And just like that, they were playing this game. The people around them - fantastically uninteresting, mostly humans - faded into nothing but fuzzy, washed out noise. Randal's hands snaked around Hawk's slim waist, yanking him close, the soda in Hawk's hand sloshing from the suddenness. Hawk was smirking, knowing already where Randal's possessive grip was going to lead them.

"Paint me that picture, Serafino," Randal asked playfully, his voice so low that only Hawk could pick up his words. Hawk rolled his eyes and blew a dismissive sigh through his lips.

"Should I have to? You've seen me in a dress before. You've seen me in _everything_ before."

"And _out_ of everything, too," Randal pointed out, grinning. "It never gets old. Humor me, though."

"Why should I?" Hawk teased, draining his champagne glass.

Randal's fingers found more leverage on Hawk's hips, bringing him closer. "Because you absolutely know you would _cherish_ the chance to make me pop a boner in a £580 suit in a posh dining hall surrounded by strangers."

Hawk licked his lips, swiping some dark hair away from his eyes and leveling Randal a penetrating, impish stare. He loved to defy Randal - he knew it drove him crazy - but he could not deny that his second favorite pastime was arousing his husband in public.

"A dress like that, probably hard to take off, yeah?" he asked, holding his hands behind his back, the neck of his champagne glass between his fingers, bobbing against his palm. "So I'd need help. The train on that thing is ridiculous. So many layers." He shrugged his shoulders up, bursting with innocent inquisition. "However would you get me out of it, to have your way?"

If this were chess, Randal would be the knight cornered by the rook, looking for a path to move smoothly out of the way. "I wouldn't," Randal concluded, "This is all fantasy, right? Just tear the train to shreds. Gain access to the part that matters." His hands slid down just by an inch.

Hawk was frustrated that his own arousal was building so quickly. The whole point - the way to _win_ \- was to make Randal break before him. He had to counter-attack.

"Fictional dresses cost money too, you bloody animal. I'm not just going to let you destroy the fictional dress that my fictional loving mother left to me on her fictional _deathbed-_ "

Randal turned his head to sputter a laugh, and Hawk couldn't suppress a grin, either. "You're supposed to be turning me on, not making me laugh," Randal pointed out.

"I'm _getting_ to it," Hawk answered, smoothing a hand over the front of Randal's suit, running slender fingers over the silken lapels. "Point is, tearing it up just isn't an option. If you want me out of that dress, you're going to have to _work_ for it."

"Tearing it to shreds isn't work?" Randal asked, mockingly abashed.

"It's the quickest way to the solution, so no. Be creative."

Randal hummed in consideration, eyes rolling to stare at the cream-colored curtains dangling daintily from the ceiling. "Creative, huh. So I suppose simply unfastening it and peeling you out of it is a no-go."

Hawk rolled his eyes. "Well if you want to be a right _bore_ about it, sure."

Randal reaffirmed his grip on Hawk's hips and looked down at him with a lustful look in his eye. "Well then, leave it on. Because when I see you in it, I want to take you immediately, and waiting just won't do." His voice got lower, adapting something of a growl deep in his throat. "I'd bend you over, train be damned. Each and every layer gets pushed up and out of the way, up over your back and head. It might be hard to breathe, but you'll manage. Your ass and hips are all I need, right?"

All of the blood in Hawk's body rerouted immediately to his groin. He swallowed, his lips parting to issue small, nearly untraceable breaths.

"I'd rip your pants down and get to work. Lick and finger you until your muffled voice is _begging_ for it. And I'll give it to you, not because you finally asked nicely, but because I want it just as much, and I'm damn near bursting from seeing you bent over and desperate in this ridiculous dress, but I don't want to come unless it's deep inside that hot fucking hole."

The champagne glass slipped and fell. It hit the ground with a loud and sobering shatter, gaining the immediate attention of nearly everyone in the room. The silence only lasted for a couple of seconds before someone started clapping, creating an amused chain reaction as a host rushed over to usher the two men away from the mess, assuring them that they'd take care of it, please continue enjoying the event. Randal suppressed a giggle, managing to offer a 'thank you' though his brain was fuzzy with arousal. Almost immediately the guests went back to their drinks and mundane chatter, blissfully unaware that the man who had so clumsily dropped his champagne glass was now leading his husband from the dining room by his hand with unfaltering purpose.

.

.

.

How they managed to find the coat room in the winding halls of the venue with only a fraction of their brain working properly, Randal wasn't sure. But they had, and Randal was thankful everyday for his tendency of carrying lubricated condoms in his wallet. It certainly wasn't their first time shagging in a public place, but it _was_ their first time shagging in the coat room of someone else's wedding. A new landmark, surely. One for the scrapbooks.

"Here, let me help," Randal chuckled, eyeing Hawk who was lying flat on his stomach in a pile of fuzzy coats draped on a large sofa, lazily struggling to pull his pants up. Randal staggered over to his husband on still-shaking knees, pulling his pants and trousers up for him and brushing flat the back of his suit jacket that had become slightly mangled during their earlier debauchery. Hawk let out a weak groan.

"We haven't done it without lube in a while," he mused in a gravelly voice. "Lubed-up condoms just aren't the same. My ass h _uuu_ rts."

"Is it bad?" Randal asked with an apologetic grin. "I might have been a little overzealous."

Hawk shook his head, giggling sleepily into the coats. "When _aren't_ you? No, it's good. Just not as slippery as usual."

"Amen to that." Randal sat down on the sofa next to Hawk, grabbing for his hand. "C'mere."

With some effort, Hawk pulled himself up and moved to limply straddle Randal's lap. Randal placed a hand lightly on the low of his back, his other fussing with Hawk's fringe over his adorably flushed face.

"Do I still have sex face?" Hawk asked amusedly. Randal smirked.

"Yeah. All red. Gonna have to wait a bit before going back out, or everyone will know _exactly_ what we got up to in here."

"Mmm, I rather like the sound of that." Hawk slumped forward and wrapped his arms around Randal's neck, stuffing his face into his collar. "There were a lot of women checking you out earlier, you know. When you were grabbing drinks. I could _smell_ their skanky pheromones."

Randal pressed a kiss to the curve of Hawk's neck, feeling his hot pulse still pounding against his lips. "Hm? Getting jealous on me, babe?"

"No, more like proud," Hawk hummed. "But it does kinda make me want to flaunt you more. And possibly announce to the whole venue that you just shagged the ever-living brains out of me in the coat room just now."

Randal laughed and hugged Hawk more tightly to him. "Well, how do you think I feel? You're so hot, I see you turn the heads of _straight_ guys."

"Oh, no," Hawk mock-whined, "please, save me from the unkempt, ball-cap beer-drinking masses! God forbid they invite me to play pool with them or watch some manly sports event, or whatever it is that hetero humans do."

Randal chuckled and playfully bit Hawk's neck, making him squeal and vainly try and wiggle away from his husband's seeking chompers. Randal held him fast and blew a raspberry over the spot, yielding a peal of frantic giggles and a defiant punch in the shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Randal pulled away enough to hold Hawk's face in his hand despite his struggling. Once they'd both stopped laughing, Randal leaned in to kiss him deeply. Hawk through his arms back around Randal's neck, tilting his head, plowing Randal's mouth with his tongue. They broke apart after several soft, feverish moments.

"I love you," Randal said breathlessly, lips ghosting just over Hawk's mouth. "And our wedding was w _aaa_ y better than this one."

"Agreed, on both points," Hawk answered with a rosy smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written December 2016  
> Author: Anonymous_Ostrich  
> Hawk/Serafino (c) MetalBunny  
> Randal (c) Anonymous_Ostrich


	2. On rainy days like this one

The low fog and persistent humidity had cleared out the streets early in the day. Siegfried disliked the humidity, but he enjoyed the sparsely populated streets. There was a promise of rain to come later, and he had wanted to get the shopping out of the way before then. With less people wandering about and it still being so early, both the trip to the greengrocer and the fishmonger had been especially fruitful and quick.  
  
“Who's going to eat the vegetables?” Tabitha asked curiously, walking close to Siegfried’s side, staring into the basket she was holding. The little girl knew they already had plenty of potatoes and carrots on the ship, and usually the cook simply chopped them up and threw them in a pot for the crew. She wasn’t used to seeing many other green vegetables, and some of the things Siegfried had purchased and thrown in the basket she’d never even seen before.  
  
“We are,” Siegfried answered, steering them toward a meat vendor that looked to be getting ready to pack up for the day. “You need to eat better than the rest of the crew. Their eating habits are abysmal.”  
  
“I don’t mind the stew,” Tabitha remarked truthfully. It was rather tasteless unless it was drowning in salt, but either way it was better than other things she’d had to consume in the past.  
  
“You _should_ ,” Siegfried countered. “Sometimes I’m not even sure what he’s putting in there.”  
  
“Elise eats it,” Tabitha pointed out with a smile, swinging the basket a tad absentmindedly. “Is Elise going to eat these vegetables with us?”  
  
“If she wants,” Siegfried said. “She can take care of herself. You’ve still got growing to do, and I doubt mystery stew will bode well for a growing girl’s body.”  
  
“Who’s going to cook this stuff, then?” Tabitha asked curiously, glancing back into the basket. She didn’t especially know how to cook, and vaguely wondered if she was going to be expected to learn.  
  
“I am.”  
  
Tabitha hummed in surprise. “You will? You’re the Captain, though, shouldn’t you get Jamie to do it?”  
  
The corners of Siegfried’s mouth pulled into a small smile. “Being the Captain is precisely the reason I can do as I please. I wouldn’t trust Jamie to properly prepare a meal that didn’t involve turning ingredients into slop.” He fell thoughtfully silent. “Though, if I really wanted to I suppose I could make Gabriel do it. Every now and again he and Jamie have a row over how something ought to be cooked, and Gabriel will usually end up trying to show him up by cooking something himself. Though, it’s usually the result of too much drinking, so I’m not sure how he would do sober.”  
  
Tabitha laughed. “Suppose Gabriel can only cook when he’s drunk!”  
  
“Best not to ask him, then,” Siegfried replied, amused.  
  
As they approached the meat vendor, Siegfried quickly signed to the man to wait, and when they were close enough to converse Siegfried pointed out some good-looking beef he wanted to buy. While the man wrapped the meat, he smiled at Tabitha.  
  
“Looks a bit like a ghost town out here today, 'ent it?”  
  
Tabitha smiled minimally, not wanting to offend the man. “A bit.”  
  
“But still yer out here shopping with your papa... Such a sweet young miss,” the man said fondly.  
  
Siegfried wasn’t terribly surprised that Tabitha had been mistaken for his daughter; it was only natural to assume a young girl shopping with a man of Siegfried’s age would be the his daughter. He often thought about it, as they walked along in different cities and ports. How many people assumed he was escorting his young daughter? Thinking about it made him feel strange. He had never asked Tabitha what she felt on the subject. The idea, to him, wasn’t disagreeable. He cared for the little girl. It was impossible not to. If she wished it, he wanted to care for her as long as possible.  
  
Handing the man a few coins, Siegfried took the wrapped meat and stuffed it next to the fish in his bag. He placed a hand gently on Tabitha’s shoulder.  
  
“It takes much more than fog and ghosts to frighten this one,” Siegfried said. Exchanging polite goodbyes, Siegfried steered Tabitha away from the stand, and they began walking in the direction of the docks.  
  
There was silence between them for several minutes. The first raindrops were falling through the fog, cold and stinging, and the couple picked up their pace. Siegfried stopped only when he no longer felt Tabitha’s presence beside him; he turned to find Tabitha standing in front of a shop window, leaning forward to better see something. Walking up behind her, Siegfried took note of what she was staring at so intently.  
  
“Do you like those hair ribbons?” Siegfried asked curiously. The little girl didn’t usually want for anything, so seeing her take an interest in something was unexpected. Tabitha’s reflection in the glass smiled almost sadly.  
  
“They’re lovely, but not for someone like me…” she answered softly. “Those kinds of ribbons are only for pretty girls, don’t you think?”  
  
Rain tapped rhythmically against the awning above the window. Unsure of what to say, Siegfried stared at the little girl, who in turn was staring at the ribbons almost dolefully. Siegfried thought to ask Tabitha if she considered herself pretty, but he was sure he’d already gotten his answer and the answer left him feeling heavy-hearted.  
  
“I think anyone should be able to wear whatever they please.” Siegfried said.  
  
Tabitha didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away from the window, her listless expression left in her reflection as she flashed Siegfried a small smile. “Sorry for stopping so suddenly. We should head back before it starts coming down hard, right?” she asked, swinging her basket.  
  
.  
.  
.  
  
It rained late into the evening. Most of the crew had returned to the ship and were drinking or playing cards below deck to keep dry, all but Gabriel and Tabitha, who were working on some basic reading in the storage room, away from the noise. After dinner Siegfried had left the ship on minor business. Tabitha was unsure what sort of business he would have needed to attend to out in the pounding rain, but Siegfried tended to care little about discomforts like rain.  
  
When it got so late Tabitha’s eyes were too heavy to follow the words she was reading, Gabriel suggested calling it a night. Shielding themselves with heavy coats over their heads, Gabriel escorted Tabitha to Siegfried’s cabin and then bid her goodnight, sheets of rain pounding down on him as he hurried back to the lower deck.  
  
She knocked as she always did out of courtesy, and when no answer came she assumed Siegfried had not yet returned and opened the door, scurrying inside. She was surprised to see Siegfried sitting at his desk, rubbing a cloth through his wet hair. He was absolutely soaked, obviously not having taken any means of keeping himself dry on his errand.  
  
“Welcome back,” Tabitha offered, hanging the wet coat on the rack by the door. A pause. “You’re soaked through.”  
  
Siegfried laughed through his nose, resting the thick cloth over his shoulders, his hair mussed. “It’s only water. I’ll survive.”  
  
“I was going to sleep, if that was alright,” Tabitha said.  
  
“Of course.” Siegfried answered, standing from his desk and shuffling the papers he’d been looking at. “I’ll be outside. Yell when you’re done changing for bed.”  
  
“In the rain?” Tabitha asked worriedly.  
  
“It’s only water,” Siegfried repeated.  
  
“But you’ve already started to dry off, so--” Tabitha glanced at her bed - a small cot secluded on the east wall of the cabin - and frowned. A small, rectangular box wrapped in pretty red paper and tied smartly with a yellow bow sat on her pillow. She went to it and picked it up, looking it over. “What… Is this?”  
  
Siegfried had been heading for the door, but hearing the little girl’s confusion caused him to turn and heave a sigh.  
  
“It’s a present, I believe.”  
  
“For me?”  
  
“If was on your pillow, so I would assume it’s for you.” Siegfried couldn’t help but smile, and he pulled a chair over to her bed and sat on it. “You can open it.”  
  
Tabitha stared at Siegfried with large eyes, the package curled in her fingers. Mutely, she turned her attention to the box, and somewhat awkwardly began to unwrap it. Once she’d peeled back the wrapping paper, she carefully opened the small wooden box inside. She felt her breath catch in her throat.  
  
The pretty, glossy ribbons she’d seen in the store window stared up at her. Although she wasn’t entirely sure why, Tabitha felt tears sting her eyes.  
  
“You got this… For me…?” Desperately, the little girl fought to tame her tears. “I can’t accept these…” Tabitha said earnestly. Siegfried tilted his head.  
  
“Why is that?” he asked her.  
  
“Because!” she exclaimed, tears falling from her eyes, “They’re for pretty girls! I see them walking along with their parents, in their lovely dresses… I’m not like them, I’m not…”  
  
Siegfried extended a hand and gently wiped some tears from Tabitha’s face. The little girl’s shoulders shook with suppressed tears, her hands clutching the box so hard her knuckles were turning white.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Siegfried said firmly. “There is nothing other little girls have that you lack. You’re gentle, you’re strong, and you’re terribly smart. You’re deserving of so much more than I am likely able to give you, but I’d like to try, if it’s alright with you.”  
  
Tabitha listened to Siegfried with a tearful expression, more tears rolling down her cheeks to replace the ones Siegfried had wiped away.  
  
“It’s… It’s really alright for me to wear ribbons like these?” she asked in a shaking voice. Siegfried smiled at her.  
  
“They’ll look absolutely lovely on you.” he answered, and the little girl burst into tears and threw her arms around Siegfried’s neck, nearly knocking him off his chair in his surprise. He held her as she cried, gently stroking her hair until she calmed down. When finally she pulled away, wiping her face, she laughed softly.  
  
“I’m sorry…”  
  
“Don’t be,” Siegfried answered easily.  
  
She glanced at the box with a warm smile. “I have no idea how to put these on…” she admitted.  
  
“It’s alright, I do.” Siegfried said, gently taking the box from her and removing the ribbons.  
  
Tabitha hopped on the bed and Siegfried sat just on the edge, ribbons between his fingers. He grabbed her brush from her bedside table and began gently brushing her hair. Tabitha’s face was still flushed from crying, but there was a small smile on her lips.  
  
“Is that really what you went out in the rain for?” Tabitha asked quietly. Siegfried couldn’t answer right away, the brush handle between his teeth as he skillfully twisted a section of her hair and began tying it up with a ribbon.  
  
“I was worried they would be closed if it got much later,” Siegfried answered once he’d finished one side. “Turn this way.” he added, and Tabitha obediently turned, sitting on her knees.  
  
“It’s raining so hard, though. You could have waited until tomorrow.”  
  
Siegfried seemed incredibly focused on his task, and once again it took him some time to answer. “They might have been sold tomorrow.”  
  
Tabitha giggled, trying hard not to move. She was silent until Siegfried finished tying the second ribbon, and when he was finished Siegfried stood, offering his hand to the little girl.  
  
“Come here.”  
  
Tabitha took his hand and moved off the bed. She followed him to a tall, lovely wall mirror on the other end of the cabin - it had been largely unused before Tabitha arrived, buried in cutlass belts, hats and shirts - and Siegfried took her by the shoulders and gently guided her in front of it.  
  
Her reflection staring back at her in surprise, Tabitha regarded the lovely ribbons tied expertly in her hair. She smiled, feeling embarrassed but wildly happy.  
  
“They’re beautiful,” she mused.  
  
Siegfried squeezed her shoulders fondly. “They look very good on you.”  
  
“You tied them on so well,” Tabitha remarked, turning her head both ways to view them both. “Did you tie ribbons in your daughters hair often?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Were your daughters very pretty?” Tabitha asked, looking over her shoulder at Siegfried. He smiled down at her.  
  
“They were. Every bit as pretty as you are. You remind me of them, very much.”  
  
For a moment, Tabitha almost looked like she could cry again. Instead, she abruptly hugged Siegfried tightly around the middle, pressing her face into his shirt.  
  
“Thank you,” she murmured into the cloth. Siegfried stroked the back of her head affectionately.  
  
“You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written January 2015  
> Author: Anonymous_Ostrich  
> Siegfried/Gabriel (c) Anonymous_Ostrich  
> Tabitha (c) MetalBunny


	3. Amen

It was sacrilegious. Definitely sacrilegious.

The cold was bad enough, but when the rain started, it became frustratingly unbearable. Luis wanted to find a place to warm up a little, because it was likely that the rain wouldn’t stop anytime soon. It was March in England, after all, and the rain would either continue or fade into an irritating drizzle. He didn’t mind the dreariness so much as the cold that came with it, and it drove him to find a place for them to just sit for a minute or two to warm up.

They had been wandering down a busy road, doing the market run they would do every few days, and had collected everything they needed. But the unfortunate circumstance of cold, being at the last shop they needed to enter, and the introduction of the rain fall made the walk home appear far longer than it was. Luis didn’t want to go into a shop. They had only brought as much money as they would need along with them, and, shops usually brought a pressure to make a purchase or trade while in them. He was already uncomfortable asking for things he actually needed, and he didn’t want to be pestered to buy something because he was standing around a shop.

He and Nathan were standing under an awing that barely protected them, and Luis was scanning the road for a place to rest, when he saw the church just a few meters down the road. While the idea wasn’t exactly the most tempting, he knew the church would be open, he wouldn’t be expected to buy anything or talk to anyone if they appeared to be there to pray, and it would be warmer than the outdoors. He nudged Nathan. “let’s go wait in the church for a while,’ he said. Nathan looked at him with one of the most confused expressions Luis had ever seen him wear. ‘we don’t have to do church stuff, just warm up a little,’ luis continued, ‘I’m not trying to convert your lost soul.’ Nathan smirked.

‘alright,’ he said, ‘its better than this. Just let’s not be there too long.’ luis nodded, and they jogged towards the church and entered.

Luis hadn’t been in an Anglican church in decades, or so it felt. How old was he when he had left England as a child? He wasn’t yet 30, so he supposed it only felt like decades. The church was mostly empty, no services were going on and only a woman sitting in a pew at the very front was there. Luis was much more accustomed to catholic churches, the smell of incense and the clacking of rosaries, masses being held daily, extraordinary décor and a ridiculous amount of candles for things other than illumination. He supposed the Anglican church wasn’t really that different, but he had often mused himself with protestant churches and their rivalries with the catholic one. 

He sat in a pew, followed by Nathan. They sat together in silence, taking in the dimly lit church and the only slightly warmer interior. It was, of course, much drier, and despite the warmth being a little disappointing, it was still more than what was outside and biting at them. It was so silent, that it felt that any noise would echo along the walls with embarrassing strength, and so the two were quiet for some time. After a while, Nathan leaned towards luis.

‘what do you think that woman is praying about?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ luis said, ’maybe that she’ll be a widow soon. ’ they were quiet again, and then Nathan spoke again.

‘ so you were a priest,’ he said, ’did you ever do anything inappropriate in a church?’

Luis nearly laughed aloud but contained himself. ’yes, but not in the way I know you’re referring,’ he said, ’ there were always too many people around for me to get away with doing that sort of thing.’ Nathan looked around a little after luis answered the question, as though he was contemplating something. Luis decided to space off a little himself, so he was taken a little off guard when a hand began to touch him through his pants. 

Luis had a habit of reacting internally but keeping his outer countenance fairly still, so he was startled by the sudden touching, but simply looked down and watched as Nathan fondled him through his pants. He felt a surge of excitement shoot up his spine, and it took all his strength to not make any noise. He pushed his pelvis into Nathan’s hand, indicating that he liked what was happening. Nathan became a bit more vigorous with his hand, and luis bit his lip to try to refrain from making any noise. 

Suddenly, luis pushed Nathan’s hand away and held it in his, then leaned in close to Nathan’s ear, his soft breath against Nathan. ‘now consider,’ he said in a low voice, ‘do you want to fuck in a church? If there’s any guarantee one will go to hell, I think two men having sex in a church would do it.’ he pulled away and looked at Nathan in a way that said ’please say let’s do this,’ and Nathan’s excitement grew despite himself as he looked at luis - who to the untrained eye would not be able to tell he was flustered, but he could definitely see it - as he held his hand and looked at him eagerly.

Nathan pulled luis towards him, their faces now close to each other. ‘I just so happen to not believe in hell,’ he said, ‘and if there is a hell, I’m going anyway, and might as well go there as wildly as possible.’ He looked at luis with a hard, lustful expression. ‘you just have to tell me,’ he said, ‘where in this place we can do it where Ms. Prayers over there will be no wiser to it.’ 

Luis looked around the church, then, scanning for anyone besides the woman at the front, and then stood quietly as possible and motioned for Nathan to do the same. He shuffled slowly and quietly out of the pew towards the wall, and gestured for Nathan to follow him. Nathan wasn’t exactly sure where luis was leading him, but followed eagerly. Luis lead him to a weird, wood structure against the wall of the church. It contained two doors, a small window at each side but they were blocked by dark curtains. Luis opened one of the doors, grabbed Nathan’s wrist and guided him into the armoire type structure. It had a plain, wood bench, a kneeler - the entire closet seemed just big enough for two people, though it seemed clear it was really intended for one. There was a window with a screen on the wall that connected the other side, although there were shutters on it to close the window entirely. 

A confessional. Luis had lead him to a confessional. Suddenly, as if the situation wasn’t blasphemous enough, he intended to have sex in the small space, where who knew how many people had confessed to the sin they were about to commit. This fact made Nathan even more aroused, but he looked at luis questioningly since luis did not squeeze in with him. ’I’ll be right back, hopefully,’ he said, ’you stay here until I come back. Play with yourself a little while you wait.’

He then closed the door on Nathan, leaving him in the dark. He was almost afraid to touch himself too much because the entire situation aroused him so much already, but he sat in the dark space, exposed himself and stroked himself slowly and cautiously while he waited. He tried to keep his breath steady, the anticipation of what they were about to do threatening to make him breath harshly. They were being risky in several ways. The woman was still in the church, and who knew if the minister would decide to come by or enter the other side of the confessional. But that seemed to make him more excited.

He had been alone in the confessional for 5 minutes or so when luis whispered into the curtained window he was there, then he opened the door and squeezed in. there was barely enough space in the confessional for them, but they both fit, and in such close quarters, their body heat radiated off of each other. Luis fondled around in the dark for the hem of Nathan’s shirt. ’you can’t wear this the way we’re going to do this,’ he said, ‘just stay there.’ he then shifted around, exposing himself by way of removing his pants about halfway. He found Nathan’s hand and poured something into it.

The liquid was very quickly identified as oil due to its consistency, but the musky, incense smell suddenly filled the confessional. ‘what is this?’ Nathan asked in a low, husky voice.

‘holy oil,’ luis replied.

“how did you… ‘

‘I was a priest, I know where they store this kind of thing.’

‘we really are buying our trip to hell.’

‘my ass will be anointed.’

‘I do like to worship it.’

‘shut up and fuck me.’

With that, luis straddled Nathan’s lap with his back towards Nathan‘s front. The position was one of the most lewd things Nathan had ever seen, he was sure. Luis had also grabbed onto the kneeler in front of him, and, was holding Nathan’s shirt in his mouth. He couldn’t see well, but there was just enough light in the space to get a dim image of luis presenting himself to him. He took his oil covered hand and glided his fingers up and down his entrance before he slowly inserted a finger inside. Luis jerked forward a little, holding the kneeler for all it was worth, and breathed harshly into the shirt between his teeth. Nathan worked luis for a bit, moving the finger in and out, appreciating the site in front of him, before inserting a second finger.

Luis arched his back a little, the muscles movements and tensing and relaxing were still visible in the darkness through his shirt. He worked his two fingers around, gauging the reactions he got out of luis, a far off wondering of what the condition of his shirt would be at the end of it all. When Nathan gathered luis was prepared enough, he looked around and saw the bottle of holy oil had been left on the seat next to him, so he poured some more of the fragrant liquid into his hand and rubbed his own shaft for a few moments, until he deemed it sufficiently hard, and then pulled luis’ hip towards him.

Luis let go of the kneeler, and then waited as Nathan positioned himself against luis’ opening, and then luis, with the help of Nathan, eased onto Nathan’s cock. It was a strange position, luis sitting on his lap, on top of his cock, back against his torso, but it was an amazing feeling. Part of it was the ‘evilness’ of what they were doing, and the other part was the thrill of having to be so secretive. Luis began grinding his hips, using his own vulnerable position to have Nathan fuck him. Nathan bit his lip not to groan in anyway, and luis bit hard into the shirt. 

Both had to refrain from getting overzealous with their actions, in such a small space, too much movement could become an issue. Nathan jerked his hips upwards a few times, causing luis to bite harder on the shirt, but luis did a majority of the working. Luis switched between moving up and down on Nathan’s cock, and simply grinding against Nathan’s lap, moving his cock around inside him. Nathan held luis around his waist with one arm, the other hand finding its way to luis’ cock. Luis threw his head back and muffled noises came through the shirt a bit, but too quiet to be heard outside the confessional. When Nathan began to stroke luis off, luis became more vigorous with his hip movements. Nathan followed luis’ example and took in a mouthful of luis’ shirt to contain noises he could hardly control.

Luis came first. Semen sprayed across the wall and kneeler of the confessional. His muscles contracted around Nathan’s cock and Nathan could no longer contain himself and came hard into luis. They both relaxed, then, sitting in the incense, sweat and sex haze they had created in the small space, luis leaning back into Nathan, resting his head against the wall while Nathan hugged him around the waist. When they eventually had their faculties returned to them and they slowly and lazily shifted apart. There was no cleaning up the mess they made across the wall and kneeler. Even if they had adequate light to see where it all went, they had no cloth to clean it up. 

Luis retuned Nathan’s shirt, which miraculously, had no holes but certainly enough saliva in the spot that had been anywhere near luis’ mouth. The back of luis’ shirt was, more or less, in the same condition. They redressed themselves awkwardly within the confines of the confessional, and luis stuck his head out and saw the coast was clear. He slid out of the confessional and shuffled quietly back to the pew, and Nathan followed soon after. The woman was gone, but they concluded it was because she was done praying or whatever it was he was doing, because no minister or other person came to the confessional. 

They had sufficiently been warmed up enough, though, so they grabbed their things they had left in the pew, and made their way outside.

‘that was the best trip to church that I can recall,’ luis said as they made their way back home.

‘hope the heavenly hosts had a good show,’ Nathan replied.

It was definitely sacrilegious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December 2016  
> Author: MetalBunny  
> Luis(c) Metalbunny  
> Nathan(c) Anonymous_Ostrich


End file.
